Downwards to the Inferno
by sheenagami
Summary: Life takes some funny turns' ponders Wendy as she wanders down the streets of L.A. Wendy centric fic. rated for language and matrue subject matter XD wendy's a poor!


  
**A/N:** Ummm… well I don't usually write about female characters but for some reason I've taken a liking to Wendy. Heh. The song 'cornflake girl' by Tori Amos inspired this story. 

**Summary: **Wendy's moved to L.A. and is now 23 years old. Her life isn't going down the best path. She's going through a very depressed state. If only she had someone to help her.

**Warning: **Bad language, mature content and umm… depressiveness.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own South Park or any of the characters. Oh and I've never been to L.A. so I'm winging it on the scenery (also meaning I didn't know L.A. didn't have lakes until KyuuketsukiShounen pointed it out to me. But I'm too lazy to change it in my story so just use your imagination.) Also I'm not sure if they call the subways and stuff by TTC there but who the fuck cares.

**Downwards to Hell**

It's raining again, I watch the droplets trickle down the window of the TTC. My stop isn't for a couple of blocks but I feel like walking, even if I'll get soaked. I pull the stop request string and the bus slowly pulls to its next destination. I walk down the aisle of the public transit vehicle and out the door. It's rather chilly out today, on account of the rain. Where I've gotten off is at the base of a bridge. I wrap my brown long coat around myself some more to fend of the cold and all the rain is weighing down my black-knotted hair. I'm sure that I have some grays in there even though I'm only 23. My overly makeup covered face must have smudges all over it by now. I can feel the breeze sweep through my coat like I was naked, it's not like I had much of anything underneath to protect me either. I'm so pathetic. I could only find work at a local bar as a waitress. And the bar wasn't exactly on the best part of down. I didn't have enough money to pay for an apartment there. At my job I have a uniform, which includes a purple tube top and a black mini skirt. The fishnet stockings are optional. Oh and there's a must wear pink shoulder length wig. It helps keep away the stalkers, or so says the owner.

As I walk the mostly desolate sidewalks of this god damned city I recall when my life was so much freer. I had so much life and potential, now I'm nothing more than a washed up whore who doesn't even have enough money to pay for more than one meal a day. I have fallen into the intoxicating spell of drugs, sex and poverty. Who would of ever thought that my life would turn out even worse than Stan's friend Kenny's. Thinking back to when I lived in South Park sometimes hurts. It hurts to think of all the good times I could have had if only my dad didn't make us move when I was 17. I could have been married to Stan Marsh right now and had a lovely job. I might have even had a child right now. Stan Marsh was my childhood sweetheart and High school boyfriend. I loved him so much and it was such a surprise when I found out that I had to leave him and move to Los Angeles.

My dad believed that he had finally found his dream job and we would be even better off than we were back in South Park. If only things had went as planned. Sure the first year or so was pretty good and my life wasn't so bad. I was still in contact with my best friend Bebe and she sometimes came to visit over long weekends or holiday breaks. Bebe doesn't talk to me anymore. Not since the last time she was here. We had got into a big fight, it was around the time when everything in my life had started to go downhill and I had just recently got into alcohol and cocaine. Bebe was still one of the preps and frowned on those who were considered lowlifes. Lowlifes to her were people who drowned their sorrows in alcohol and didn't do anything to make their lives better. Now that I think back at it, Bebe had a right to get mad at me. She tried to help me and I chased her away. That's just one of the many big mistakes I've made in my last 5 years of life.

My life was ruined the day my father died in a drive by shooting. He was never the target but a stray bullet hit him nonetheless. - My heels are still clicking and now I'm about at the middle of the long bridge. - After my dad died my mother started to get into alcohol and drugs, occasionally prostituting herself to pay for our rent. She just stopped caring about anything, not even me, and I had to fend for myself. Soon after I started to follow in her darkened footsteps. When Bebe left that at the end of that week I moved in with some of my other drug addicted 'friends'.

It was only a year ago that I realized I had to clean up my act if I ever wanted to truly be happy and avoid ending up dead. I entered myself into a rehab program and quit all the drugs I was on. That was a start, and soon I found a job. It may not have been the best job, considering I was basically being taken advantage of, but it was better than flat out prostitution. I found my own apartment to rent by myself and now I'm not as bad off as I was. But my life still sucks. I've lost my once beautiful face and look like I'm in my late 30's or older.

I stop walking and turn to gaze at the vast lake underneath the bridge. The waves are pretty big from the storm, if anyone were to fall in there'd probably be no hope of saving them. My life is crap and I should just end it here. There's no way in hell it'll ever get better than it is now, and I'll never make it back to my old mountain town so I guess I should jump. No use wasting resources and a never-will-be like me.

I climb up onto the railing and shimmy myself onto the other side of it. I'm ready to stop this hell; I'm ready to just die. I won't have to worry any more. I look one more time behind myself only to see a familiar face. It's Kenny McCormick, what the fucking hell is he doing here. He's no longer wearing that ridiculous orange hoody but he's wearing a black trench coat and a red plaid sweater. He's also got on a pair of baggy blue jeans on and his blonde hair is fully visible. He must have cleaned up his act since high school. Kenny was one of those lowlifes Bebe and me hated and made fun of all the time. He was a man-whore and into some heavy drugs. By the age of 13 he'd slept with almost every woman in South Park, more than once. We never talked much back then, we never really had the chance. Now that I think about it I've turned into the one thing I had swore to myself that I would never become. Life does take some funny turns.

He spots me and his eyes fill with panic. I don't think he knows who I am but he's only worried because he knows I'll jump if he doesn't somehow stop me. I turn back around and ready myself to jump. I push off but before I can even get past the point were your weight and gravity pull you down I feel two strong-arms around my waist. The offending objects pulled me back and over the railing onto safe ground. I fall to the ground and glare at the person who 'saved' me. It's Kenny and he's staring, sympathy present in his eyes. My hair is in my face and I can taste the tears that are invisibly falling down my cheeks. The rain hides my tears.

"Why don't you let me end it?" I hear myself cry out. "Let me just DIE!" Kenny sighs and then smiles at me. "Whatever happened, it's ok. When things are bad enough to drive you to suicide the simple fact is that things can only get better." He still doesn't know who I am. "Kenny. Do you even know who I am?" Kenny's expression shifts into a very shocked one. "How do you know my name?" Kenny takes a better look at me and his eyes get even bigger "wait… Wendy? Stan's old girlfriend?" I nod and a wild smirk spread across my features. "Look at what I've become! I'm a fucking whore! I don't deserve to live!" Kenny looks at smiles and me sadly. "No matter how hard things get everyone deserves to live." Kenny extended his hand to me " Do you want a second chance? I can help you with that. Just take my hand and I'll help you. I'll take you back to South Park if you wish." I nod once more and grab his hand. Maybe things can actually get better, and I was wrong. Maybe I can stand to look at myself in the mirror again. Kenny hefts me to my feet and we walk silently beside each other, he's guiding me back to his place.

Whatever the reason behind this twist of faith I'm grateful. Thank you Kenny.

**End**

**A/N: **Heh heh. Really, don't ask! Lol! I was in the mood to write and this idea was floating around! Woo! Go me! I hope you liked it. .0 I don't know were Kenny came from but I love him so he had to have an appearance! BWAHAHA! Please comment! Oh I also have a sequel in mind but I want to know if you guys think I should write it!


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